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Eyes wrought of hellfire stared out at the night, their half-lidded state doing nothing to dim their brilliance. The dark stallion stood beneath a lone tree, his proud posture ever-so-slightly-less-than-perfect (oh, he'd never droop). Unlike his usual routine, catching only a wink or two of sleep at night and spending the rest of it out in his favorite element, he'd flip-flopped and spent most of his time out in daylight. She'd bade them to spend a day apart, that their reunion might be ever-sweeter, and as she'd made it clear that she expected him- nay, challenged him- to spend the daylight wandering about, he had. Just to prove that he, Kerrigan, was not limited to the night; he was always, ever, himself. He smirked a little at that- after all, who else could he ever be, or want to be? He was... comfortable... in all the elements. The cool night air was familiar, pleasing, His. And, yet, his little excursion during the daylight hours had left him rather.... tired. His smirk coiled downwards into a severe frown, before he corrected his expression to a more neutral loathing. He did not approve of being sleepy at night, whatever unusual pattern he had kept this day.

Thus distracted, he payed only mild attention to the gentle sounds of a winged approach- sensitive, was he, one who was so used to the dim lighting- and then... Kerrigan let out a roar of outrage, eyes snapping open, as the branch crashed down on his back. The branch crashed against his spine, sending a jolt of pain through his body as he reared- hooves flashing in the moonlight- and then bucked, sending the branch careening off into the night. Shedding leaves, his wild eyes cast about for the source of this sudden crumble. The wind hadn't been so strong as to explain this, and how dare the tree presume to crash upon his form- A curse broke through the night air- after casting a daggered look at the tree, his eyes locked on a dark form some distance off- yet close enough to be the source of this... this... "You." pure and utter venom, his lip curling into a snarl as he arched his neck, all thoughts of sleep gone from his mind as he stalked forwards a step.

Kerrigan was infuriated. Not only had he switched up his schedule, wandering about in sunlight instead of his birth-right moon, he had allowed himself to become so fatigued that a tree branch- falling tree branch- had gotten the better of him. And this... this winged fool was responsbile. Catching the way he moved quickly, and yet had seemed somewhat ... off-balance?... Kerrigan's snarl deepened. That neutral expression- at least he seemed somewhat on alert, even if his face remained controlled (or was this bumbling stallion just an empty skull?), and that tone. His expression flashed to outrage and then settled into the stalking glimmer of a predator. Oh, yes he was awake now- and, oh, was he mad.

"How dare you. You do not make a habbit to scout your landing place before crashing down?" oh, a little thing to pick at, to be sure. but he'd already roared once- a simple phrase would not do.

Kerrigan did not even allow his ears to so much as twitch at the other's bold remark. Victim? Oh, hardly... he had let his guard down. He was had been too tired for his honed reflexes to kick in at the sound, at even the crash; in all his years, he had never been hit by a tree branch. Not even in the worst of storms. He had let himself.... slip- but, oh, if this one hadn't been there, if he hadn't been so clumsy, that branch would like as not never have come down. Let alone on Him. "So if it had been a foal- a mare- would you then be moved to change your clumsy ways?" Kerrigan cood, his voice syrupy sweet yet holding a mocking note he did not often use with those he had targeted. This one had marked himself out.

"You belive in... honor, don't you?" he quieried, emphasizing the word with a little flick of his tail. "A mere branch is only momentary discomfort for a fit stallion- it is not the 'hit' which enrages me, rather the insult of your carlessness." Oh, his back stung a little, but it was mostly from the anger coursing through his veins as the steady adrenaline had forced off his fatigue. The other splayed his wings in what was obviously meant as a gesture of intimidation, and Kerrigan fought the urge to roll his eyes. These breeds. They all thought they were so special, showing off their little physical oddities with such pride. He racked the other visually, taking his eyes off the other's face as a gesture of insult ('you're not threat to me') before meeting the other's gaze with condemnation. Tell him to shut up, would he? Well, hadn't that worked out just nicely. "Do you believe in justice?" He glided a step closer, using his peripheral vision to outline the possbile lines of escape; the only one he could not follow would be to the sky.